


Heartstone

by TheLittleMuse



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleMuse/pseuds/TheLittleMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the great secret of the Hobbits. They are able to create objects of immense beauty, 'Heartstones', out of the air that surrounds them, the soil beneath them and their hearts. Towards the end of their journey, Bilbo decides to give one to Thorin, as a mark of their friendship (and the fact that Bilbo might just be in love with Thorin, despite every bit of common sense he might have ever possessed). Things go downhill, then uphill, and might just end up all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartstone

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in my head for ages and had to write it, but I'm really not sure about how it's turned out.

Heartstones were one of the most curious commodities of the Shire, and the best kept secret. They were, as the name suggested, made by a Hobbit’s heart, taking from the air around them, the soil beneath them and forming in the Hobbit’s hand. The stones, through their colours and shapes, could tell stories or convey emotions. If two Hobbits wished to marry then they would make one Heartstone together as part of the preparation for the wedding. If they could not form the Heartstone then it was thought to show that their hearts were not truly in tune and they often, though not always, decided not to marry.

There were those, men, elves and dwarves, who had seen the beauty of the Heartstones and had stolen them. Some even kidnapping and enslaving the Hobbits themselves. The stones that were produced in that time were known as Slavestones, and even those who were not Hobbits or didn’t know their origin, could see the pain in the black stones. They were kept locked away, a guilty secret, a memorial of something that should never happen again.

This, of course, was why the Hobbits had hidden their gift. Even those who kept the Slavestones in memorial of a darker time did not know the secret of their makers, thinking them to be a dead race, a victim of cruelty. There were those ancient few who remembered, but they, for the sake of the Hobbits, did not speak of it.

…

Bilbo Baggins was an unusual hobbit in many ways. He had left the Shire one mad morning, without even a handkerchief to his name, to follow thirteen dwarves and one wizard to reclaim an ancient kingdom which was, currently, occupied by a dragon.

Bilbo Baggins had questioned his sanity many times.

This was not to say Bilbo disliked the Dwarves. They were a rather amiable bunch, fondness for ripping orcs apart and willingness to throw themselves at a dragon aside. Although Bilbo couldn’t really say anything about the dragon part, since he was supposed to be their Burglar and actually sneak past the dragon. Bilbo was steadfastly ignoring that part.

But what had Bilbo questioning his sanity most of all was his growing feelings for one Thorin Oakenshield.

In basic principle it wouldn’t have worked. He was a Hobbit, a Child of the Earth. Thorin was a Dwarf, a Child of Aule, of Mahal, as the Dwarves seemed to call him. But in any case, he belonged to the mountains, to the rock and the stone, to the deep, dark caverns, certainly not the earth.

And even if it weren’t for that, Thorin was often indifferent, even cruel to him. How could he fall for one who seemed so hard and who despised him so?

Whatever the reason, and Bilbo had pondered the reason many times, Bilbo had fallen. And by the time they had reached Laketown they were even amiable, what with the ‘Bilbo saving their lives several times and especially that part where he threw himself at an orc to save Thorin’. And so Bilbo decided to make Thorin a Heartstone, as a token of his friendship. It was a rushed, but that couldn’t be helped. True Heartstones often took months, sometimes a year, as every detail was lovingly crafted. And so, to make up, Bilbo poured everything into that one Heartstone and ended up with a thing of beauty. A stone that somehow had a wooden, oaken, feel. Perfect, Bilbo thought, for Thorin Oakenshield.

He hadn’t thought of what he would do if Thorin rejected the Heartstone. He hadn’t allowed the thought to cross his mind as he had worked so obsessively on the stone.

But his absence whilst they were in Laketown, had been noticed.

Bilbo presented the Heartstone as they were preparing to leave Laketown for Erebor. Bilbo didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t immediate questions.

“Where did you get this?” Thorin had asked as the stone lay in his hands.

“I – I made it,” Bilbo answered, a little scared at Thorin’s tone, and beginning to realise, he might have to explain. And he could never give away the secret of the Hobbits.

“How? You are no craftsmen. You have not spent your time in jewellers or craftshops. Where did you get this?”

“I told you!” And now Bilbo was near tears, for a Heartstone was called a Heartstone for a reason.

Thorin snorted, “It is no matter,” he said and shoved the stone into his pocket. Bilbo fought the urge to grab the stone back. It was his heart, after all.

They left for Erebor and Bilbo tried to prepare to do his job as the Burglar. That was why he was there, after all. He had offered his friendship to Thorin and had been rejected. It was an idiocy on his part, Thorin had never wanted to be friends with his Burglar, and now was the worst time of all – Thorin was completely focused on Erebor. Thorin had even insinuated that he had stolen the stone! He could have laughed at the irony. Thorin had accused his Burglar of being a thief. 

…

Bilbo was inside Erebor, talking to the dragon, and he could no longer deny that he was weakened. He had poured too much of himself into the stone. Too quickly. Too much. And all for one who would never love him back. It was all his own fault, really.

He could _feel_ it, Thorin’s rejection of him, even as Bilbo was confronting Smaug for Thorin, Thorin continued to be annoyed at his delay and greedy for his gold, not even worried for Bilbo’s safety.

Then he saw the Arkenstone and a sudden maliciousness overtook him. Thorin had taken his heart, and so he would take Thorin’s in return. The Heart of the Mountain.

He did his duty as a Burglar, and took his share. He had been told he would have his pick. The Arkenstone was his choice. He even bought the Dwarves peace. He didn’t have any use for the Arkenstone, after all.

Bilbo silently wished the Company the best of luck and quietly left Erebor. His anger against Thorin aside, those dwarves had become a sort of family for him, but he knew he would never be welcomed in Erebor again. 

…

Bilbo struggled along the road. He had never heard of this before. There had been those who had made Heartstones for those who had rejected them. They had felt the pain of rejection, and were sick for a month or so, but nothing … nothing …

He had put in too much, too soon, too fast.

Bilbo fell down.

…

Bilbo awoke to the sight of Gandalf peering over him. Bilbo grumbled and turned his head away. It was all Gandalf’s fault.

“Oh, my dear Bilbo. What have you done?”

…

Thorin absently took the gem Bilbo had given to him from his pocket, trying to make sense of Bilbo’s actions. Now he was calm and the brief spell of gold sickness had left him he understood why Bilbo had given the Arkenstone away, but as for the rest of it. Why had Bilbo left with no word? Presumably he had (accurately) assumed that Thorin would be angry with him for taking the Arkenstone. But the complete disappearance seemed out of character.

Thorin truly looked at the gem for the first time. It had struck him the first time he had held it how the gem seemed somehow made for him. Now it seemed shot through with red that Thorin could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. Red like blood.

_I – I made it_

Thorin had heard tales of the creatures who could create the most beautiful objects from nothing, from the air and their heart. Thorin had dismissed the stories as fanciful tales, secure in the knowledge that only dwarves knew how to truly create the most beautiful things.

Could … could it be true? What exactly was it that he was holding?

And where was Bilbo?

…

Gandalf brought Bilbo back to Erebor, his whole demeanour suggesting that any dwarf who objected would feel the business end of his staff. Thorin followed, unable to shake the growing feeling that this was his fault.

…

Bilbo awoke in a comfy bed and almost immediately felt embarrassed. He was only glad that the Hobbits would not hear of his carelessness when making his Heartstone.

And then there was that growing feeling in his gut … “He’s not angry with me anymore.”

“No,” replied Gandalf, shocking Bilbo for he had not noticed Gandalf was in the room, “In fact, Thorin has been rather worried.” There was a noise of agreement from Gandalf’s side and Bilbo looked, and then shrank into his sheets. Thorin was sitting by Gandalf.

“I had to explain what had happened, Bilbo, once I discovered the facts. I am sorry.”

“They were not your secrets to give.”

“I so I should have just brought you back, unconscious, with no explanation?”

“Yes.”

“Gandalf told me alone, and he only told me the bare minimum. You have my word that I shall never breath a word of it,” Bilbo relaxed slightly at Thorin’s words. He knew that Dwarves, and Thorin especially, knew the power and value of the secrets a race protected.

Bilbo then shook his head, “It’s my own fault at any rate. I was foolish in the making and in the giving.”

“I would like to think you were not so foolish in the giving. You offered my your friendship, I should not have ignored that so easily.”

Bilbo looked at Thorin, whose gaze was for once unguarded and free, “Actually, given the feeling of the stone it could be considered courting or … more,” said Bilbo, loosing his resolve very quickly.

Thorin leant forward and took Bilbo’s hands in his. Bilbo prepared himself for a rejection, “I have nothing of equal value to give you, and so I say this. You have given me your heart despite my constant crimes against you, but I am too selfish to question that. I will only say this, you have given me your heart and so I shall endeavour to keep it safe against all hurts it may encounter, and one day hope that you shall accept mine.”

That wasn’t a rejection.

“Are – are you saying that you love me?”

“At first I looked down on you, that you know and that I cannot deny. But then I saw more, saw how great you truly were and slowly I began to fall. Then I began to realise that if you said but one word, I would abandon Erebor for you. That power you unknowingly had over me scared me, and I, as stupid as I am, took it out on you. I do not deserve forgiveness, and yet I beg for it.”

“Foolish Dwarf,” Bilbo said fondly, “I wouldn’t have given you the stone if I wasn’t desperately in love with you.” Thorin smiled and kissed Bilbo softly. Bilbo patted the bed beside him and Thorin shifted so he was lying beside Bilbo and holding him, “There will be a thousand problems with this, with us,” said Bilbo, “but now I am tired and happy and they can be dealt with tomorrow.”


End file.
